


To Join the Throne

by NeverForgetStarkiller



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Rey is a Hux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-25 19:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12539004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverForgetStarkiller/pseuds/NeverForgetStarkiller
Summary: Rey finally learns about her family in the aftermath of a hard-won war, and the answers are nothing like what she'd wanted. Now, the Resistance struggles to rebuild a sense of normalcy across the galaxy while Rey struggles to come to terms with truths she'd rather deny. For accepting these truths could change the fate of the entire galaxy. Because the First Order isn't dead. It's just beginning again.On indefinite hold.





	1. Rey

The days were filled with condolences. Words that were meant to be comforting. Pats on the shoulder. 

“The General herself had Darth Vader as a father. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I never even knew my parents, and I doubt I will.”

“Family is overrated.”

“We’re your family, now.”

Every word was soft but calculated, trying to dig beneath her skin, beneath her shell. She didn’t know what to make of it. 

With the war over and so many gone, she felt, for the first time in a while, truly alone. The Force didn’t help. Knowing that she was just one part of some interconnected web of life made her feel even more alone. All those people out there in the galaxy... And, now that she’d found out the truth about her family -- too late -- she wasn’t sure what to do. 

“Rey. Rey, please, I know you’re in there.” Finn pounded on the door to her room. He’d been gone when Suralinda came with the news and gone when Kalonia confirmed it. Just hearing his voice almost made Rey break down right there. 

She rushed to the door and threw her arms around him before even looking. She squeezed him tightly as if it would be the last time she held him close, as if him knowing changed everything. To Finn’s credit, his surprise at the sudden hug blew over quickly, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

Finn sounded as upset as Rey felt, and she didn’t blame him for it. Her head swam with guilt that she had no business feeling. As if she’d personally hurt Finn or any of those other stormtroopers. Any of those people on all those planets... Any of the billions who’d been alive on Hosnian Prime. 

“I’m okay,” Rey said, and she put on a brave face as if she actually was. “Everyone’s been nice.”

“Because nothing has changed.” Finn squeezed her. “We decide who we are. And, you’re the same person. You’ve always had my back. And, everyone knows, without you, the Resistance wouldn’t have had a chance.”

Despite herself, Rey smiled. “Don’t let Poe hear you say that.” 

“Hey, even Poe would admit it,” said Finn. He released Rey from the hug. “At least quietly. To himself.”

They both smiled, looking at each other. Then the moment passed, and everything was silent and uncertain. 

Since she’d returned from her training, and especially since the end of the war, Rey had been privy to the rumors floating around the compound. The things people said about Poe Dameron –- especially the things they said about him in relation to Finn. It didn’t seem like something she should ask, so she never had. Ever since she’d left to train with Luke, it felt as if a distance had grown between Finn and herself. Rey couldn’t be sure if the distance was related to her knowledge of the Force, or if they’d simply… Grown apart, in a way. 

Finn was the first real friend Rey had ever known. At least, if she didn’t count BB-8. But, Rey had learned that she wasn’t Finn’s first friend. Finn trusted easily. He loved easily. He didn’t grow up building a wall around himself to keep from being hurt. The First Order taught them to trust so that they could work as a team with other stormtroopers, so that they could learn formations and follow orders. 

Thinking of the First Order stung Rey. Like the Force was reaching out for her, tugging at the strings of her heart. 

“Rey?” A steady hand clasped her shoulder, and Finn’s voice grew serious. “You… You’re not alone, now. Talk to me.”

She wished the words would sink in. She didn’t want to feel alone. “I’m okay. Really.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Not long ago she’d been a scavenger on Jakku. She had never had friends, and the few people she’d known, she’d never really talked to. Not about anything other than life on Jakku. She’d never shared her dreams of a faraway place, surrounded by so much water she’d never be thirsty again. She’d never told anyone how she marked the wall of her home with every passing day, just knowing that each tally was one day closer to her parents coming to get her. 

Only they hadn’t. 

And, now it seemed they never would. Worse, with everything she knew now, she wasn’t sure if she was sad they hadn’t. 

“I’m hungry,” Rey said, instead of the dozens of forlorn thoughts in her mind. 

Finn relented. Because he wouldn’t know how to make her talk, anyway. No matter how hard he pushed, he couldn't make Rey do anything. They left the room and walked toward the mess hall, where they took an empty portion of a long table for themselves. 

The food had improved since the Resistance had emerged from the war victorious. They were still the Resistance, though. Reluctance to reestablish the New Republic was palpable. It was a reluctance the entire galaxy shared. What would they be this time? The New New Republic? And, how long would that last before it was destroyed, too? 

Rey bit into some bread and chewed slowly. She was not hungry. She was rarely hungry anymore, but she didn’t know what else to say to Finn. An idea gnawed at her mind, wondering if he’d hate her the more he had the chance to think about it.

A tan hand slapped the table before Poe Dameron suddenly sat down beside her. “Mind if I sit here?” he asked, just as BB-8 rolled up. When the droid saw her, his gears whirred, and he bumped into the seat with a quick beep of binary.

It was a welcome distraction even if the droid did jostle her. “That’s bad table manners,” Rey scolded him. As if she knew the first thing about table manners. “And, hello to you, too.” Rey tried to hide her smile at the resulting series of beeps. She preferred handling droids with a firm hand. Even if she was very fond of BB-8, she couldn't let him know that. BB was spoiled enough as it was.

Poe gave a thumbs-up to his companion droid and smiled across the table at Finn. “Nice to see you again, Rey.”

“You, too,” she said. She took another bite of bread and glanced toward BB-8 for just a moment. When she looked back, she spotted Finn, hand over part of his mouth, trying to mime something with just his left hand and his face. As soon as he noticed she’d looked back, he snapped back into a too-casual posture. 

“So, Rey,” said Poe, turning toward her, leaning his arm against the table. 

Of course. They’d been miming about her. 

“Have you been to see him yet?”

Rey thought Finn’s jaw looked like it was about to drop off his head. That was obviously not what he’d hoped to urge Poe to say. 

It hadn’t been what Rey expected to hear. She was used to condolences and assurances that the family you’re born into doesn’t really matter. 

“No.”

“That’s not a good idea, anyway,” said Finn. His voice was low, like he thought talking about the idea would get them in trouble. 

“Finn’s right,” Rey said. “Besides, I’m not sure he’s taking visitors.”

Another person might have been taken aback. Or, felt awkward about being outvoted. Poe barely looked affected at all. “They make exceptions for family. And, they’d make an exception for you, anyway. Who’s going to tell a Jedi no?”

“I’m not a Jedi.”

“Right,” said Poe. “Still.” He rested his elbow on the table and looked at her. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But, you should do something, if you feel like you need to. Obviously, no one’s going to judge you for anything you feel like you should do. You deserve to get closure.”

Poe Dameron was strong in the Force, Rey suspected, in his own way. Maybe he’d just absorbed that kind of wisdom from his time spent around Leia. But, everything about him was entirely unique. He could give advice like that as if he was talking to his best friend, even when advising someone he barely knew. Rey could count the number of times she’d ever spoken to Poe on one hand, yet being around him never felt strange. He had a remarkable way of making people relax. 

And, he was right. 

Rey couldn’t foresee a future in which she’d be able to get this off her mind. She hoped that it would fade, and, perhaps in time, it would. But, if it didn’t? Worse, if it didn’t, and she decided she needed closure, and then… Then it was really too late? The Resistance probably wouldn't keep war criminals as just prisoners forever.

“I don’t even know if he knows,” she said. 

“He might not.” Poe ran a hand through his hair. “You got it tested and everything, though, right?”

She nodded. Doctor Kalonia had run the tests to be sure as soon as suspicions arose. Which had been immediately, once Suralinda found the datapad. Detailing the drop-off on Jakku, complete with pictures of a girl with three buns tied in her hair...

“We’re with you, Rey,” said Finn. 

The sentiment warmed her heart even if it didn’t convince her. She was terrified. So many nightmares felt like they were coming true. Rey looked across the table at Finn, pushing away her food. “Is he completely awful?”

Finn fidgeted, uncomfortable. “I… Don’t know. I never knew him, really. Just saw him and heard him on holovids, mostly. He usually spent his time with other officers. And, people like Phasma and-…” Finn trailed off. 

Just the beginning of the thought was more than enough for Rey to understand. 

“No,” Finn said. “No, no, no, that’s a bad idea.”

“ _He_ doesn’t scare me, Finn.”

Any other occasion they might’ve argued over that. The old: he doesn’t scare me – maybe he should – he’s just a man – a man who’s killed a bunch of people. That argument they’d had so many times. But, the argument had grown tired. Especially since she’d faced the man many times, and she hadn’t died yet. 

Just like that, it was decided.

Rey made her way to the prison. The site in the base where they kept the big war criminals. The safest place they could be until the state of the galaxy’s government was resolved. Then they’d be shipped off for trials. Her only family member was locked away in one of these rooms. 

_Don’t think about that._

Instead, she focused on all the positive thoughts she had. Finn. Poe. BB-8. Rose. Her friends. She walked to the biggest cell, the one familiar to her. It had been a while since she’d been called down. And, she’d never come of her own accord before. 

Two guards nodded in greeting. “He hasn’t been causing trouble today.”

“Good,” Rey said. “I’m just going to check on him.” Both guards let her pass without another word. Most of the Resistance trusted Rey implicitly. Sometimes, she thought it was only because they feared her. She was different. She would always be different. 

The cell door closed behind her, and Rey stepped toward the huddled-up mess of dark curls sulking in the corner. “I haven’t tried to choke myself in weeks,” he said without moving. 

Rey walked to him and knelt. “And, you should stop trying altogether. Some of these guards would probably just let you.”

He was a husk of man, the person the galaxy had called Kylo Ren. Rey thought the only reason they let him stay in prison was for the sake of his mother. General Leia’s memory meant more to most people in the Resistance than an easy execution. 

Of course, Rey wasn’t sure execution was the answer, anyway. Not for a man who wanted so much just to let it all end. 

“Ben,” said Rey, watching him for any sign of movement. “I found out about my family.”

It was a silly thing to say to a man who’d had so many problems with his own family. Yet, the worst thing he could do would be to laugh. Or, tell her that she was being stupid. Neither of those things would be that bad. Not coming from him. She knew him. And, though it was sad in a way, he knew her. Better than anyone could. He’d touched her mind, and she’d touched his. 

He didn’t laugh. He raised his head, pale face staring at her wordlessly. She could see plainly the way he wished to reach out to her, drink in her mind so that he’d know. So that he could understand. Part of her wished he would this time. Just so she wouldn’t have to say anything. The rest of her knew that was an awful idea she’d regret right away. She never wanted him in her head again. 

“I think my parents are both dead.”

Dark brown eyes watched her, and still he said nothing. His hands rested on his knees as he waited for her to go on. Perhaps he was thinking of what to say.

“But… I think I know who they were.” Rey breathed deeply. She hadn’t had to explain this before. Everyone else in the world seemed to just know. People liked to gossip, and the news had spread like wildfire. “My parents are dead. But… I have a brother.”

Explaining things slowly was obviously the wrong decision. Ben’s eyes went wide, and his lips twitched as if he was fighting off an outburst worthy of Kylo Ren. Angry and panicked. “No… No! There’s no way that’s -- why? Who told you that?” He grabbed her wrists before she could stop him. 

Rey threw him back with the Force, pushing him into the wall. She rubbed the skin on her wrists and almost yelled when she looked toward him again. Then something in her head clicked. Whether it was through the Force or just the frightened look he was giving her, suddenly she understood. 

“Not _you_ ,” Rey hissed. “Calm down unless you want them to come and put you in a Force cage again.”

The panic faded from his face until only the small, ever-present bit of fear remained in his eyes. “You shouldn’t explain things that way.”

“I’ll explain my business whatever way I want to. It’s my business. You should stop jumping to conclusions.”

“Jumping to conclusions? What else was I supposed to think?”

“I don’t know. Maybe that not everything is always about you.”

“FN-2187?”

“What about Finn?”

“Is he your brother?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

“I didn’t. Just hoping.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Am I?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Am I really that awful that you would hate to have me as a sister?”

“What? No! That’s not why I –- no.”

The thought that her actual brother might be offended crossed Rey’s mind. Granted, she didn’t know much about him, but he didn’t seem like a nice person. She’d been led to believe that Kylo was the lesser of those evils that ran the First Order. 

“Well, it’s not you I’m talking about,” said Rey. 

Relief painted itself across Ben’s face as he realized she wasn’t planning on more follow-up questions. The last thing he wanted to do was talk himself into a hole. Normally, the only time he received visitors at all was when Rey was called in to deal with him for being difficult.

“Then why tell me?”

“Because I don’t know if I want to tell him.” Rey didn’t stop him from getting up and walking toward her again. “I need you to tell me about him.”

Ben sat in front of her, mirroring her position. “It’s someone I know?”

“He’s a prisoner, too,” Rey said. “In this base.” She dug into a bag at her side and pulled out the datapad. “Some prisoners on other planets… First Order planets… Had things like these. She used hers as a diary. But, only for a few days. Then never again.” Rey offered it to him. 

Ben took the datapad, switching it on. “Where did you get this?”

“I didn’t. Poe’s friend, Suralinda –- the journalist –- did. Apparently, her job was finding information that might make a good story. That’s what journalists do, I’m told. But, she found this when the Resistance was cleaning up a First Order slave operation.”

“They weren’t called slaves,” he said, studying it. “The First Order’s official stance on slavery was no tolerance.”

“A slave by any other name is still a slave.”

“You’re welcome to argue that with-…“ He stopped. He’d seen it, then. The briefest mention of the name. “No.”

His eyes searched her face as if he was looking for a hint of deception. Rey shook her head. “That’s what she found, exactly as it was. It has to be true.”

“No. It doesn’t,” Ben said. “You don’t know him. You don’t know how impossible it is. You’re nothing alike. You destroyed the First Order with nothing but yourself and your friends. You stopped the First Order’s armies from sweeping across the galaxy and changing everything in its path. Hux built the First Order. It’s all he lived for.”

Rey didn’t bother to correct the man before her. He was a prisoner for his crimes in the war, too, on behalf of the First Order. Yet, he always talked about the movement as an outsider. As if he hadn’t commanded stormtroopers to commit atrocities in his name, once. 

“Well, allegiances aren’t hereditary. We’re related. By blood, that man is my brother. And, I need you to tell me about him. Please.”

Ben hung his head and breathed deeply. “You’re asking too much of me. I never liked Hux. Never. He was a part of the First Order long before I got there. And, when Snoke brought me in, it was like… Like we were both kids. Fighting for the teacher to see each of us as his favorite, his best student. Snoke used us. He’d been watching me my entire life. But, I know he kept Hux close through all of his. Maybe even since he was a little kid, like how they rounded up stormtroopers.”

“I understand,” Rey said. 

“I’m not sure you do.” Ben reached out, touching her knee lightly. She didn’t stop him; he always did that. Always seemed to crave personal contact. She didn’t mind because she wasn’t scared of him. And, even a gentle touch from a man who wasn’t quite her friend was better than all the hugs she’d never gotten from family. “I don’t. That’s for sure.”

“He’s like you,” said Rey. She rested her hand on top of his gently, just to feel its warmth. 

“No, scavenger. He’s nothing like me.” Ben turned his hand up, catching hers with his fingers. “He wasn’t built for fighting. Give him a lightsaber, and I can’t imagine he’d do anything more useful than slice off his own head. He was built for war. Training men. Leading men. Engineering plans and schematics far beyond the skills of most Republic scientists. I always hated him. Called him weak. I tormented him whenever Snoke wasn’t around. It was easy because I hated him, and he always tried so hard not to look afraid. He was worse than me.”

Everything that Rey felt when she’d first heard the news bundled up inside her. Shame and guilt and rage. She’d spent her whole life before the war wondering if her parents would ever come back for her. If they had, it seemed she would’ve been disappointed. She would’ve been part of the enemy. Probably, she wouldn't have even realized she was the enemy.

“He was the one who designed Starkiller,” said Ben. “The idea to take an entire planet and hollow it the rest of the way out… Use the sun’s power… Basically, it was almost all his idea. And, it was him who chose to fire it, too. That wasn’t me.” The last words came out weakly, a plea to her. Begging her to believe him. 

She did. 

It only made everything else worse. The woman who’d owned that datapad was dead. Worked to the bone on some faraway First Order planet. The man named on the datapad as her father… He had been dead for a long time, according to the records. At least a few years. Her only living relative was a brother. A half-brother. A man who now rotted in a prison cell, not far from where she sat with his former acquaintance. 

Rey had only heard of the man called General Hux before. In the actual war, she’d fought stormtroopers and occasionally officers but never the man they'd all called General. Every bit of news she heard frightened her. All she’d ever wanted was family. Now, the only family she had was a man who would be sentenced to death as soon as the Republic was reformed.

“Scavenger… What are you thinking, now?”

Rey closed her eyes. She so badly wanted to tell him to just look. To reach into her mind and explore every doubt and fear. Just so someone else could feel it, too. But, she couldn’t do that. 

“Nothing,” she murmured. She reached out to take the datapad back from him.

“I can help you,” Ben said. The last time she’d seen the same look on his face had been years prior. Locked in combat, lightsabers glowing brightly against each other. He’d offered her to join him. Through the force he’d reached out to her, inviting her. To join him on the winning side, and he would teach her. Protect her. 

Kylo Ren had done unspeakable things that would, at best, earn him the rest of his life in prison. And, Rey was the only person they trusted to be his jailer. Even now that he was broken. Rey just hoped that she’d never be asked to play the part of executioner. 

“No one can help me.”

Ben reached out to touch her face, so Rey stood, moving out of reach. His eyes moved up her body, to the cheek he’d tried to touch. “I told you family would disappoint you.”

“You did,” Rey said. She thought of Han and wondered what he would say to her if he could be here. She left.  
 


	2. Suralinda

A story to end all others. That’s what some of the others claimed the war was. The reality was that everyone was drinking now, more heavily with the war over. And, it was hard to blame them.

Fighting took a lot out of the people, but it gave them a sense of purpose. 

With the war no longer raging it was suddenly too easy to realize how many friends and family had died. To realize that home was destroyed, and there was no one in charge. That pirates ravaged the Outer Rim and ventured closer all the time. Slaves were being made every day. 

None of these realizations were new, exactly, but they were small problems when the galaxy was in the middle of a war. Now, they were in the middle of something far worse: civil discord. 

Anarchy, Suralinda called it. She had spread the tale of the Resistance’s overwhelming victory just like any good journalist would have. But, she’d always had hope that the Resistance leader, General Leia, would emerge from the war with a newfound purpose. A calling to rule. Take up the mantle as a princess once again. Be a second Mon Mothma – or far better. 

Instead, the greatest woman the galaxy had ever known lay dead, survived only by her brother and son. Luke was an old man who shied away from the public, and Ben was a dangerous enemy leader who should really have been executed upon capture. 

“This can’t go on forever, Poe,” said Suralinda. She took a long gulp of wine, watching him across the table. She wasn’t exempt from the post-war drinking binge. 

“And, it won’t,” said Poe. “Everyone’s just getting their bearings.” Poe took just a sip. He, it seemed, was mostly exempt. 

She’d always admired Poe Dameron. Poe was like Leia in many ways. He was a voice of reason, and a voice people wanted to listen to. Poe was young and daring, and, though he was small for a man, he was more dangerous than most. Especially behind the controls of a ship. He was a great pilot, fighter, and friend. Everyone loved and trusted him. 

“Maybe so, but while we catch our bearings, we lose the galaxy,” Suralinda said. She was an exotic woman around these parts, which garnered a good amount of attention for herself. Her people had all but been destroyed in the galactic civil war, years before. 

Poe leaned back. He rubbed his neck with one hand, thinking. Then he said, “We fought for these people. And, we’re going to fix things.”

“’Fix things’ isn’t an answer, Poe. Out there, pirates are stronger than ever. We have no Republic. Our forces are small and broken from war. We’ve done away with the only force keeping half the galaxy in check.”

“The First Order was wrong, and we defeated them.”

“The war’s over, now. We have to look at it from a practical perspective. When they kidnapped children, it was to train them and educate them. Build them into soldiers. The children out there being hunted down… They’ll be slaves. Not the fed, sheltered slaves that the First Order kept as stormtroopers. The kind sick men use for their own pleasure and then discard. You don’t know that part of the world, Poe Dameron.”

He set his jaw, shaking his head at her. “The First Order was wrong. We’re going to establish powers again. We’ll stop all that.”

Suralinda loved Poe just as much as the next person. He was a born leader, a natural pilot, and he was so charismatic… But, when it came to politics, he was a fool. He knew nothing about compromise or power struggles. He was too much of a hero. Justice. It was all about justice for him. Doing the right thing regardless of the cost. 

In all fairness, Poe had never expressed interest in politics outside of his freedom fighting. Sure, he’d run away to fight a war against the First Order. But, he’d also viewed the issue as black and white. As if the First Order was all evil, and the Republic was, at its core, at least, good. At the end of his ideal war, the First Order would have been crushed, and everything would go back to the way it was in the good days of his childhood. 

But, the way it was… That was what had started the war. Rebellions don’t rise from the content bellies of well-behaved citizens. They rise from the blackened hearts of the oppressed. 

“How?” Suralinda asked. “Every time the supreme chancellor had to be replaced, the senate dragged its feet for years, doing nothing. Yet, we expect something to be done, now, even without the senate?”

“The people in charge know what they’re doing. They’re taking everyone into account.”

“ _We_ are the people in charge, Poe. The Resistance is the only organized military in the galaxy, now. We’re the ones who must make the decisions. We need to act. And, we don’t have time to waste, electing senators so that they can sit on their asses and argue and debate and not get anything done. We need real leadership.”

Suralinda knew Poe had to see what she was getting at. He couldn’t possibly be blind to it; no one in the Resistance could. It was his face that had graced the unofficial propaganda posters of the Resistance, back in the early days when they’d barely had any men. It was him alone that brought her to the movement at all. She’d thought the affairs of the galaxy were beyond her until he’d opened her eyes to the cause. He was General Leia’s prodigy. 

He was the chancellor of the new world they lived in. Even if he didn’t know it yet. Even if no one called him that. 

“We need you, Poe.”

“I’m a pilot. You’re just a journalist.”

“You’re right,” Suralinda said. “Finn was a stormtrooper. Rey, just a scavenger. Now, we’re all somehow war heroes. People in the Unknown Regions know your name.”

“And, that’s great,” said Poe. He took a bigger drink, and Suralinda thought the conversation might be getting to him. “It doesn’t change the facts, though. There are people out there much more qualified to lead.”

“People who know about politics, you mean? Poe, you know war. You know teamwork. You know people. You’re a real person. Who better to lead the galaxy than a hero they trust?”

Poe was a confident man. Self-assured, with few doubts about anything. But, it was obvious he hadn’t planned on a life in the galaxy’s spotlight once the war had ended. Not in that way. “Surry, I can’t. Remember those other people you mentioned? I have to take care of them, now. Finn and Rey can’t go back where they came from. And, Rey…” Poe rubbed his eyes. 

“I know finding her parents was important to her,” said Suralinda. Since she’d had to watch the expression on Rey’s face at the news, she'd replayed the event over and over in her mind. It was tragic news, really. The kind that sparks interest across the galaxy but crushes those close to the story. Suralinda still thought about whether she should’ve destroyed the datapad and moved on. She couldn’t go back, now.

“Finn said it was one of the first things he found out about her. That she was abandoned. And, that, after, like, thirteen years, she still expected them to come back.” Poe emptied his cup, resting his elbows on the table. “Can you imagine?”

“I thought about not telling her,” Suralinda said. “But, I couldn’t get the image out of my head. Her, traveling the galaxy, searching desperately for the rest of her life, and finding no answers.” Even if the girl had found answers on her own, it would just make the truth that much more painful when it came later.

“No, I think you did the right thing,” said Poe. He looked at his watch and stood. Suralinda stood with him. “It’s just made things a lot more complicated.”

She reached for his wrist. “Tell me you’ll consider it.”

Poe gently plucked her hand from his arm. He looked at her and nodded. “It was nice to see you, Surry. Try not to come back with more bad news this time.”

Suralinda couldn’t decide if the nod meant he would consider it. Or, if the nod just meant goodbye.


	3. Finn

Rey wasn’t allowed to leave. Not when she was the only one who could control the monstrous man, Kylo Ren. Allowed was a strong word, of course, since Finn would love to see anyone try to stop her. But, she didn’t seem to want to. 

The thought bothered Finn as he flipped the controls on the scout ship, preparing for landing. It was his forty-second mission for the Resistance. Ninety-eight more to catch up with Poe, assuming Poe just relaxed at the base that whole time. Still, Finn couldn’t bring himself to focus. Not while he knew Rey was back at the base, upset and refusing to talk. 

A lurch unsettled Finn as the ship hit the ground, and he groaned. He wasn’t sure he would ever get better at the landing part. But, not long ago, he hadn’t believed he’d ever fly a ship on his own, and here he was, now. 

Finn holstered his blaster as he climbed out of the X-wing. Pressly’s Tumble was an old mining facility. One that Finn had been to before, only once. Another place, another time. Back when he’d been a stormtrooper. 

Captain Phasma had led him, then. A woman he’d thought to be the mightiest in the galaxy until he’d met Rey. Phasma hadn’t been happy with him the last time he’d been on this planet. Well, hunk of old moon that he thought of a as a planet. Finn remembered the way Phasma had looked at him, disapproval palpable even through that thick helmet of hers. He’d been hiding his doubts about the Order then. 

“Excuse me, sir,” said the voice of an alien. Finn didn’t know what species he might be. Greenish skin, bulbous eyes, two sets of arms. “Are you the man the Resistance sent?”

“I am,” said Finn. 

The alien folded his arms and nodded. “The workers are unused to things. We’ve tried everything we can. The workers won’t go home. It’s like they’ve forgotten the idea of shifts altogether. We thought adjusting shifts accordingly would help. Four months working, two months off.”

“But, it didn’t work.”

Creases on the alien’s face folded up as its mouth pressed a firm line. “It’s been weeks since that shift ended. None of them will go.”

“Are you a commander here?” Finn asked. Then he thought about it and amended, “An overseer, I mean. Are you a… manager?”

“The closest thing we have, I suppose,” answered the alien. “The mine was independently run on the First Order’s watch… If you will, perhaps it’d be better to see for yourself.” The alien man bowed his head and turned, waving with two of his hands for Finn to follow. Then he began to walk. 

The port Finn had landed in was small and closed-off. Beyond it there were tunnels. Long, winding tunnels connected by a series of rickety elevator shafts. Finn no longer had a uniform. The helmet he’d worn over his head as a stormtrooper had limited his vision to the area just in front of him. Now, walking through the tunnels he could observe the strangeness of the place more easily. Little grey, squiggly creatures burrowing into the walls and ceilings of the tunnels. Tiny, crawling beasts with long tongues and furry heads that patrolled as if waiting for the squiggly things to emerge – then attacking. 

“Do you know what we mine here?”

“Poison,” answered Finn. Years ago, they'd just mined metal, like most places. Then that ran out, and, instead of moving on, the First Order found something else to make people do. Mine another natural resource. He glanced toward the ceiling of the tunnel instinctively. Somewhere up there, the underground tunnel system ended, and the surface was smooth. Uninhabitable by most residents of the galaxy. The air was unbreathable. Or, rather, it was crisp and sweet and easy to breathe – which was why it was so deadly. A minute or so of the fumes could render a man unconscious. Five, and he’d be dead. 

The First Order had used gas bombs to control riots. Most of the time no one had died. At least, that was the official report. Looking back, it seemed likely it wasn’t true. 

“Miners’ tears,” said the alien. “It has traditionally been valued as a weapon, yes. However, we are working on pharmaceutical applications for it.” The alien led Finn down a long hall, then stepped into an elevator. He touched a series of buttons, and the elevator plummeted downward. 

Finn moved his hand to his stomach, trying not to let the feeling get to him. The sensation of falling was never one he could get used to. It made him feel as though his insides had left him, floating up above somewhere, while his body continued without innards at all. 

“Gas is a notably difficult thing to mine. As the miners are often men like yourself. Men who can’t be near the stuff. They have to work with masks on, and, even then, they must be quick. Even diluted, the gas can be dangerous.”

A screeching sound echoed as the elevator slowed, then stopped. Finn followed the alien out onto a bridge of wood, into a large cavern. Inside the cavern were hundreds, perhaps thousands, of men. Some alien, most human. Glass tubes covered the walls, poking out along every inch of the walls. The miners were gathered, three to a tube. 

“They rotate. One captures the gas within an orb, and while he seals it off, the next captures. By the time the third man removes the orb, the first should be ready to move again. Too much of a delay is dangerous for all three men. Dangerous for the whole lot, really.”

“War’s over. They need to go home to their families and get different jobs,” said Finn, staring as three men rotated around a glass tube. They moved in sync, flowing through the motions like a well-practiced dance. 

“None of them will consider it. That’s why you’re here.”

Finn nodded and looked around the cavern, searching for a sign of someone in charge. The last time he’d been there, he remembered Phasma stopping to talk to men on the bridge. Men like overseers. The man Finn followed, now, was the only one he could see on the bridge. Below them there were no others. No one outside of the rotations around the tubes. 

“Who can I talk to?”

“Like I said, I’m the closest thing we have to a manager. They don’t follow overseers. Just the time. They’ll split for dinner and sleep, and that’s all.”

He was meant to talk to them, Finn realized. To reason with the working men. To convince them not to be slaves any longer. A lump formed in Finn’s throat. He should’ve asked Poe to come. 

The alien looked at Finn and nodded. “I expect you’ll be taking at least a few days to settle in and figure things out. Let me show you to your quarters.” 

Finn walked after him, numb already. He knew it wasn’t an easy to task to free the enslaved. He’d been a soldier for the First Order. The only defector he knew of. The First Order didn’t breed traitors. They bred zealots. 

The room was more like a small cave with a cot. Grey squigglies wormed their way around the walls just like they had in the tunnels. The air felt damp. “Let me know if you need anything,” said the alien before he left. 

Then Finn crashed back onto the cot, alone and disheartened. He picked up his datapad and called home to the Resistance base. C-3PO picked up on the other line. 

“Commander Finn,” C-3PO said, tone clipped yet chipper. “You have arrived safely, I presume. Captain Dameron will be pleased to hear it.”

Finn scratched the back of his own neck. He hadn’t, in so many words, actually told Poe he was going. So, he hoped that would be true. Finn figured Poe might be more upset than anything. 

“He has already been by asking for you,” Threepio continued. 

Well, that made Finn feel bad. He swallowed. “What about Rey? Is she okay?”

Threepio’s voice darkened with disapproval. “Yes, she is adjusting, it seems. She’s taken to spending more time with the prisoners.” The droid didn’t need to clarify what he meant. Finn knew.   
She kept going to see Kylo Ren. 

It hadn’t been a good idea in the first place. And, now that she kept going and going, Finn had to wonder what was going on. What was Ren telling her? It made Finn’s skin crawl to think about Rey’s head being filled with pretty lies about the First Order. Finn had lived it. He’d been plugged into the propaganda every single night with his brothers-in-arms. 

Surreal to think about them again. 

“Alright, thanks. I’m here, no problems. Might be a couple days, but I’ll check in and keep everyone updated.”

“Of course,” Threepio said, and Finn hung up. He laid back and stared at the ceiling and tried not to remember the last time he’d been on this planet. 

They’d all been alive, then. It was the last real memory Finn had of them. Before Slip… 

_Died_ , Finn thought, his brain forcing the idea to fruition. _Before Slip died on Jakku._ Captain Phasma always tried to instill a certain dissociation in her troops. Finn couldn’t count the number of times he’d been taken aside and scolded for taking care of Slip. Whether it was continually backtracking to save him during battle simulations or going easy on him in the fighting ring. 

Seeing Slip fall like that, hand going to the mortal wound, shocked at his own failure on their very first mission… The last thing Slip had done was reach out to Finn and touch him. Finn would never forget how it felt to have to clean off his comrade’s blood from his own helmet. 

He would never forgive the First Order for Slip. Or, even Nines.

Little love had been lost that day on Takodana. It was different than Slip. Nines had no way of understanding, and Finn had never been brave or stupid enough to share his doubts with his squadron before he’d left. Nines hadn’t relied on Finn ever, not the way that Slip had. Nines wasn’t clumsy or bad at his job. He was a decent stormtrooper who, for the most part, followed orders well. He’d respected ’87, even if Finn hadn’t valued it at the time. It was just what stormtroopers were supposed to do. 

Nines had almost killed Finn that day. 

Seeing him again had made Finn hesitate. Seeing how much his former comrade hated him… Maybe that had made Finn weak, or maybe he could tell himself it was just the lightsaber. 

Maybe that hadn't been Nines at all. Maybe he'd just sounded the same and fought the same, and the, “Traitor!” he’d shouted had just been a generic insult for the enemy. Finn could tell himself that, and maybe if he said it every night as he went to sleep, like a First Order mantra, he’d start to believe it. But, he’d been bad at keeping those mantras close to the heart, too.

If Han Solo hadn’t stepped in, Nines _would’ve_ killed Finn. Would he even have felt sad about it? Or, would he have disconnected like Finn had and told himself it was over? 

_Zeroes._ It could never be over, not really. Finn’s connection to the First Order. Even if he just had the memories. 

But, more than memories remained. Zeroes remained. Missing. 

A more romantic, more imaginative mind than Finn’s might have been haunted by scary dreams of the last stormtrooper Finn had left behind. Finn tried not to dream as much as he could, and he tried to stop imagining the words of the propaganda in his ears every night when he laid down for bed. The voices weren’t really there anymore. Just in his head. 

FN-2000 might just be in his head, too. The war was over. And, so many people died on the First Order’s side in that last battle that Finn was sure their deaths couldn’t all have been recorded. That was how Zeroes died, then? Trapped on a Star Destroyer as it blew to pieces in the cold of space? 

The possibility that someone else might have deserted, that Zeroes might have run away once he found out his brothers were all gone… That idea was nice for Finn to think about.

Zeroes had always watched the officers, admired them, sucked up to them. Maybe he’d become one, realized the bad things the First Order was doing, and fled. Maybe he’d just met one and fallen in love, and they’d run away together when they both realized the error of the First Order’s ways. 

Finn wished he could think that romantically. But, he’d known Zeroes. 

Zeroes was either dead, or… No. Zeroes was dead. Finn refused to think about the things officers used to tell them. 

That the First Order is always prepared. Always follow every order of your superiors because they have knowledge you don’t. The First Order has plans in place for everything. Everything.   
 


	4. Ben

He wasn’t sure why she kept coming back. He understood, of course, that she was scared. Ben just didn’t know why she kept coming back to _him._

He tried to avoid making her mad. He followed the topics she brought up and answered as fully as he could. It wasn’t a good idea for her to meet Hux, and he knew Rey already understood that. Still, every time, she insisted that she was going to do it, anyway. 

_Because you’re no one to tell a person what to do with her family._ Rey never said that. Ben felt it, anyway. The dark part of his mind he was finally getting used to, after all these years. Because he was still Kylo Ren. That man hadn’t been born as a mask, and he couldn’t be tossed aside just like one, either. He wasn’t separate at all. 

Kylo Ren was Ben, and the galaxy knew it. Everyone in the Resistance knew it. Ben knew it.

Rey knew it. 

“Can droids use the Force?” Rey asked. She was cross-legged on the ground across from him, their legs almost touching, as if they might meditate together. 

“Droids,” echoed Ben. He wanted to be polite, but the snarkiness came through, anyway. He sounded about like he thought she was a complete idiot.

“Yes,” Rey said through her teeth, looking like she might benefit from some meditation to stop from hitting him. 

Ben leaned closer to her as if daring her, and she glared back at him. When she didn’t strike, Ben sat back again and answered, “That depends on if you believe in Skippy.”

“What?”

“Skippy the Jedi Droid,” Ben said, his voice flat as his eyes stared into hers. It was the closest he could get to seeing her mind. Reading the way her eyes flashed through emotion. In that moment, her eyes changed from confusion to annoyance to something still and unrecognizable. 

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be,” said Ben. “Skippy’s real. Well, a real legend.” Rey’s brow furrowed, and it was obvious she was trying to hide her emotion. Her eyes were uncertain, but her lips twitched just faintly, trying to suppress a smile or frown or-… He stood. He couldn’t let her see the doubt on his own face. What she’d just reminded him of. She was trying to look tough in front of him. Trying not to let him see if she was confused or curious or upset. Trying to hide her expression fully, like she was a droid herself.

And, in that moment, he saw it. The tiniest movement of her lips, the rest of her face still as ice. She reminded him of Hux. 

“No one knows if it’s true or not,” Ben said. He tried to make his abrupt movement seem natural, like it was part of his delivery. He knew she’d know better. 

“A droid that could actually use the Force?” Rey asked. “Because I just meant if they could feel it or not. If it flows through them. Because BB-8 acts funny, sometimes.”

Ben drank in the astonishment in her voice. It was uncertain but open, and he hated himself for even thinking that she could ever be like Hux. Rey was an open, emotional, beautiful shipwreck. _She’s just not open with you._

“Droids can be smart,” said Ben. “Threepio always thought he was.”

Rey almost smiled, and her struggle to hide it caught Ben’s eye. He sat back down in front of her, pleased with himself. So, she’d met Threepio. “Your BB unit has probably gone a while without having its memory wiped.”

“He’s not mine,” Rey said. “He’s Poe’s.”

“I’m sure he likes you better.”

She made an attempt to look offended on her friend’s behalf. “I don’t think so.” But, Ben could see the way her eyes lit up just a bit as if she hoped it might be true. 

“I like you better.” 

The one moment he’d needed the teasing bite in his voice to come through, and it hadn’t. The joking he’d meant to be there was lost somewhere within, and those four words hung on the air. 

If she was startled, she didn’t show it. “I’ve almost killed you.” Rey looked at her hands like she wasn’t able to look at him. “We’ve tried to kill each other.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “I never tried to kill you.”

“You threw me into a tree.”

“You pulled a blaster on me.”

“You backed me onto a cliff.”

“I wouldn’t have let you fall.”

Rey sighed like she was done arguing with him. “I guess I like you better than Poe.”

Her statement startled Ben. He shifted suddenly, sitting up just a bit more. Rey looked at him, then realized her mistake and amended, “Than Poe likes you, I mean. I like you better than he does. Because it’s not a very high bar.”

_Of course, that’s all she meant._ Ben managed a smirk. “So, you don’t hate me quite as much as everyone here hates me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Rey said. She drew her legs up, pulling her knees to her chest. “BB-8 doesn’t like to follow me this way. I think he’s afraid of you.”

“Could be Phasma. Droid might think she killed some of his friends for her armor.” Ben looked down at himself as the thought entered his mind. His robes were plain. The only offensive thing about them was that he was the one wearing them. With Hux’s ranking stripes and First Order insignias and Phasma’s chrome stormtrooper armor, the Resistance probably hadn’t been so accommodating. They could be in prisoner uniforms, or plain clothes. Ben wondered if that had broken Hux. If that had been the final straw. To lose everything he’d had, even the clothes off his back. 

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure it’s you. Because Poe doesn’t like you. And, I protected BB-8 from you.”

“You should go to him,” Ben said suddenly. The words came out before he could even think them through. He couldn’t find it in himself to carry on talking to her like it would continue forever. Ben wasn’t that delusional. She wasn’t here because she was fond of him. She was here with him because she was running from something she was afraid to do. Meet her family. 

Rey’s forehead scrunched up, but she knew what he meant. “You told me I shouldn’t.”

“I didn’t realize you took orders from me, scavenger. If that’s the case…”

“I don’t,” she said, giving him a hard look that told him to stop. “You just knew him. So, I wanted to hear your advice.”

“My advice is to forget it. But, you won’t. I’m sure I wouldn’t, either, if it were me.” Ben touched her knee, careful to let his fingers rest on the fabric there, unthreatening. It was all he could settle for. He knew better than to believe that he could ever be comforting. But, to Rey, at least… To the brave scavenger girl, he could be unthreatening. “We never made small talk. It was all business. Maybe there’s something to him outside of politics. I doubt it.”

She touched his hand. It was something she did, sometimes. The first time, Ben hadn’t been sure she knew what she was doing. Then he realized she really might not know. Maybe she just liked the way it felt. Maybe after all this time, things hadn’t fully changed for her. Maybe she was still that lonely girl on Jakku. She couldn’t possibly want to stay here with the Resistance forever. 

Rey didn’t deserve to be a prisoner to her own mind. _She won’t be. She’s better than you._

“But, you have to at least talk to him, if you want it to stop bothering you. He didn’t scare me. He won’t scare you.”

“I’m not scared of him.”

“You don’t need his approval. Let him hate you, and you can hate him right back.”

She didn’t say anything, but she almost smiled.


	5. Poe

“It doesn’t make sense,” said Connix. She controlled the maps, showing off the different planets and mission sites to the other officers. “Every strike is random. We can’t correlate them.”

“Nothing’s random,” Poe said. All eyes turned to him. 

Pirates had been a problem since the dawn of time. This was nothing new. Even the New Republic had issues with them before. The only reason the Empire didn’t have many issues was because they allied themselves with crime lords. 

These attacks were only devastating, now, because the Resistance didn’t know how to deal with them. The Resistance was an organized military. Not a police force. And, they were built with one sole purpose: to make sure the Empire never came back. They were made to fight the First Order, and they’d gotten great at that. Poe had grown used to it. Trying to get inside the head of these uppity officers and figure out their next moves. Poe was good at it. 

Crime like this was just different; that was all. In time, they’d learn to combat it, too. 

“We just don’t understand it yet,” continued Poe. He looked at the room of Resistance men and women, then gestured toward the holoprojection. “Obviously, the pirates are after something. Spice, maybe. People, maybe. We’ll figure it all out in time. Until then, we send people out there. We need another base in the Outer Rim. That’s where most of the pirates seem to be hiding. We need to have people on-call all the time. And, we need to get word out to all the planets there. They still don’t trust us. We have to show that we’re there to help, and we have to let them know they can count on us. If the Resistance is contacted, we answer.”

Poe knew the next argument would be about numbers. They didn’t have enough people to support that sort of effort. It was an old, broken argument that everyone always tried to make. And, they all knew what would end up happening: they would cut other things, amp up recruiting, and make it work. The alternative was letting these outer systems fall through the cracks. It wasn’t an alternative worth thinking about. 

The Resistance was divided these days. About things like what to put their resources toward. Many, like Suralinda and some of the older Rebel vets, wanted to start focusing on rebuilding. Poe just wanted to keep helping people. 

Maybe once things calmed down the Resistance could come together with people from all around the galaxy and settle on a plan of some sort. A government everyone could agree on. And, eventually, like his parents had, Poe could retire to some beautiful moon somewhere. Or, just go back home to Yavin. The idea sounded nice. 

His parents had been happy there. He’d been happy there, too. Back in his younger days when they were both around. Yavin 4 was a good place to raise a family. It would make Poe proud to follow in his mom's and dad’s footsteps. 

“Captain,” called a pinched voice from the back of the room. C-3PO stood there, looking toward him. The droid glanced around the room, distraught by the argument that some of the other leaders were engaged in. 

Poe headed over. “Finn?”

“Perhaps I should tell him to call back.”

“No, I’ll take it. We’re not getting anywhere right now.” 

Suralinda was right about one thing, at least. They did need leadership. Poe just didn’t plan on volunteering for a life of politics. He couldn’t picture himself taking off the flight suit to put on sleek, Senate-ready robes that would probably cost more than an X-wing. That was a life for a different man. Or, woman. Maybe someone like Connix would be suited for it. Or, Rey. 

Hell, if they could find a way to keep Threepio’s dramatic fits down, the droid might be better suited for running the galaxy than most people. Then they could avoid the near-certain political uproar that happened when big leaders were replaced. Just give a droid the job. Then everyone else could go about living their lives. 

The call transferred to Poe’s datapad, and he took it to his room. “Captain Poe Dameron. You copy?”

“Poe,” answered Finn’s voice. Then he paused and tried to backtrack. “I copy. Yeah.”

“Hey, buddy,” said Poe. He smiled, sitting down on the cot in his room. “Is it true you’ve decided to run off and be a miner?”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you,” Finn said. The words came out in a rush. “They thought someone should leave as soon as possible, and, well… I’ve been here before. Long time ago.”

That was Finn-talk. It meant he’d been there when he was with the First Order. He was a braver man now than he’d ever been before, but Finn still sometimes slipped. On days when he started thinking too much he’d imagine distrust. Like other people in the Resistance looked down upon him for his past as a stormtrooper. Every time he said anything, Poe assured him nothing could be further from the truth. Finn might get scared or insecure, but he was one of the bravest men Poe had ever met. And, he was one of the truest heroes of the war.

“How are things?” Poe laid back on the cot, holding the datapad in one hand. 

“Not great. How’s Rey?”

“Worried, still. I don’t think she’s done it yet. BB’s been following her around the base whenever he can find her.”

“I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“Rey’s smart.”

“I know that. It’s just… Hard for me to imagine what she's going through. I wish I could help her.”

Poe nodded in the silence of his room, as if Finn or anyone else could see. Rey was a strange case. Finding out who her parents were for the first time after so many years, and finding out they were dead. Poe couldn’t imagine never knowing his parents. He wouldn’t have given up a second with them for the world. “We’ll do all we can.”

Everyone knew that Rey was strong. More mentally than physically, though she could still beat up pretty much anyone three times her size. She would need time. Having a whole worldview shifted like that took time to get used to. 

“Yeah…” Silence fell on the line for a few moments, and Poe wondered where Finn was. What it looked like, what it felt like. Was he in a private room, or had he been forced to sneak back to his ship? Was it cold? Too hot? 

“Things are bad here,” said Finn. “With the miners, I mean. It’s like I’m talking right through them. The facility’s tried adjusting their schedules, and it’s not working. The company can’t even find buyers in the amount that the Order used to pay for their stuff. They’re just sitting on tons of this stuff, with nowhere to sell it. They think they might have to shut down.”

“Which’ll put everyone there out of work,” Poe said. “Try making the workers understand that. Once they start taking breaks, they’ll remember what it’s like. See if the company will work with you on it. Those people need a vacation, and it sounds like the company needs to secure sellers. Preferably who aren’t pirates.”

“That’s another thing. None of this is secure. The First Order was the reason people stayed far away from this place. A few thousand containers of this stuff are missing – which isn’t much, compared to what they have here. But, if raiders find a use for this stuff, they could wipe out the store. They have more than six months’ production stored here. That was enough for the First Order to use for a long time.”

“I’ll mention it to some people. Maybe we can get some of the more friendly pirates out there to work with the Resistance.”

“Thanks, Poe.”

“Anytime, buddy. Anything else to report?”

“No. I don’t think so.” 

Poe smiled. “Okay, then-“

“Yeah. I miss you, Poe.”

“I miss you, too, Finn.” It was enough to make Poe warm and content and braced to go back to the rest of the Resistance’s argument. “Take care and call back when you can. Don’t let any of those corporate types scare you.”

“They don’t scare me. I’ve dealt with worse,” said Finn. “Goodbye, Poe.”

“I’ll talk to you soon.” Poe closed the call. He ran a hand through his hair and got back up. Time to go see if the Resistance leaders had made any progress. His guess? They were just talking in circles once again.


	6. Rey

Rey was going to meet her family today. 

And, based on the looks of the guards’ faces when she passed by Ben’s cell, it wouldn’t be long before the whole galaxy knew. 

Her brother – the man she now couldn’t not think of as brother – didn’t have his own guards. He probably couldn’t use the Force or even do much damage with his hands, if she was to believe Ben. The man was supposed to be small. 

Like her, Rey thought. Though she couldn’t imagine how a man who led armies could be small. He would’ve been able to afford food. Any food he wanted, all his life. 

She stopped outside the cell door. The console was there just next to it. All she had to do was use it. 

People said that there were two different instincts that kicked in when face-to-face with your fear. Fight or flight. Anyone who thought they knew Rey knew which instinct always won over within her. She was a fighter. She was tough. 

Now, she ran. Back down the hallway so fast that the guards at the end called after her, asking what was wrong. Rey kept running. Out of the base, past the hangar, toward the shelter of the nearby trees. 

_The belonging you seek is not behind you. It is ahead._

Rey sank to the ground at the base of a tree and let herself breathe. For a long time, she’d been building up to this. Preparing herself. Family was more than just blood. She knew it wouldn’t make things hurt any less. 

It would be easier if it wasn’t true, Rey thought. Then she thought of Han and Leia, and how she’d loved them so quickly. She remembered what Ben had thought when she first went to him after learning. That she'd been talking about him. _It would’ve been easier if it was you._

Never, Rey had thought – never could she forgive Kylo Ren. She hadn’t. Not really; not ever. But, she understood Ben, now. She didn’t agree with him, and she wanted to believe that she would never have done the things Ben had done. 

For some reason, though, he liked her. He was nicer to her than he was to other people. And, she’d loved Han and Leia. She’d even come to respect Luke. If Ben were her family, she might have been able to forgive him. He already didn’t hate her. It would be easier to let things go. 

Nothing about her new name was easy. It linked her to a history with the Empire and the First Order. Everything she’d found about her father painted him as a monster. The reason Finn and other children were plucked from their homes and indoctrinated to an evil, brutal cause. 

All she knew of her mother was that her mother had loved her. Rey had read the datapad over and over again, trying to see between the lines. How could her mother have been a slave on a poor planet far away? While her father was practically Imperial nobility? 

The only answer Rey could come up with wasn’t easy to stomach. Her mother hadn’t detailed it, so it would never be known. Rey just hoped that her mother’s life hadn’t been the worst it could be. That no one had taken advantage of the poor woman. Just the thought made Rey sick, even if she didn't know it was true.

Rey’s brother was simultaneously more and less mysterious. Everything she knew of him was hearsay and First Order official record. Nothing personal at all, even from the one person she’d talked to who knew him personally. His full name was Armitage Hux, and he’d been the First Order’s general. He’d been their Leia. 

That was hard to imagine. 

A soothing hum filled the air as Rey took out her lightsaber. Running through stances always soothed her more than meditation could. Made her feel stronger. 

What did her brother know of her? 

_I brought down his empire._

Rey moved the lightsaber through the air slowly. Stretching her muscles, focusing on her footing, feeling the Force. 

How much did he hate her already? She was tempted to reach out, search for his place in the Force. She barely felt it minutes ago, even right outside his cell. He wasn’t sensitive to the Force like her, that meant. He couldn’t use it like she could, or like Ben or Luke. If she reached out, that meant he probably wouldn’t even feel it. Or, if he did, he wouldn’t understand what was happening. 

If she was gentle, careful, she might be able to look into his thoughts – just the surface ones. Nothing underneath that would hurt or scare him: that was something she would never do to an innocent unless she had to. 

He wasn’t an innocent, though. If the First Order was evil, and he was its leader as much as – maybe even more than – Kylo Ren… What did that make him? 

She wanted to think that all it made him was another of Snoke’s pawns. But, he was more than that. Maybe he hadn’t had a choice, if he’d only ever known life in the First Order. Rey wasn’t quite sure that made him less responsible, though. If he was really the one in charge of destroying an entire system… That made him evil, too. 

Rey grunted, following through with a swing of her lightsaber and lopping off a branch from a tree. The lightsaber retracted into its hilt, and Rey turned back toward the base. She was ready. 

The guards had, luckily, switched shifts by the time she returned to the prison, but the new ones gave her funny looks all the same. 

“Is everything okay?” one asked. 

“Yeah,” she said. “Fine.” It wasn’t too late. She could still fall flat and go see Ben instead. He’d call her scared again and send her away. 

And, he was right. She had to do this. 

So, before she could let her head talk her out of it once more, she activated the console and stepped into the prisoner’s room. 

The cot against the far wall was the tidiest spot in the cell, and it was there the man sat. Shoulders back, legs crossed, like he’d been waiting. He could probably hear when people approached the room, Rey reasoned. Still, it didn’t do much to make her less nervous. 

If he was surprised to see her instead of a guard, he didn’t show it. His face barely shifted from its neutral expression. He was wearing black, plain underclothes. The sort of thin shirt that people wore beneath their flight suits in the Resistance, only those were usually white. His pants were black, too, darker than the shirt, and it all made him look paler. Stark white, like he’d never once walked in the rays of a sun. The only color in his visage came from red-gold hair that covered the top of his head and dusted along the lines of his jaw. 

He was small, too. Ben had been right about that. It was hard to imagine a man so thin anywhere near a military. He didn’t look at all like a general. 

Perhaps none of it was true. 

“Do you know who I am?” asked Rey. 

“The scavenger girl from Jakku,” he said, and the way his voice lingered on the words told her enough without searching his thoughts. That nothing she could say would ever make this man hate her less. 

So, she said what she came there to. “I’m Brendol Hux’s daughter.”

His head moved back just a bit, and it was the only reaction he showed. “That’s a stupid thing to wish for.”

Rey was sure she’d never met a person who hated her quite so much, quite so quickly. “It’s true,” she said. “They ran it against your blood.”

He rested his hands at his sides, pressing against the stiff mattress. He doubted her; that much she could tell. 

“My mother was a First Order slave on-“

“The First Order doesn’t support slavery.”

Just like that, Rey realized she didn’t like him. “I don’t care what was rationalized by giving them a different name. My mother was a slave.”

“No,” he said. “You were a slave.”

Rey bristled. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know Jakku. I know what scavengers are there. I’ve known many people from Jakku, and they all preferred the First Order.”

“Forcing people to do a job for-“

“Enough pay to feed them,” he said, interrupting her again. “Was that the reward for your labor every day in that wasteland?”

She could tell by the way his eyes watched her that he already knew his answer. But, it didn’t matter. That was different. “I didn’t work for anyone. It was my choice when I wanted to sell things.”

“If you still believe that,” he said, “then you have no business saying our stormtroopers are brainwashed.” He moved a hand to the side of his face, where he then felt his beard. For the smallest moment, his expression changed. He looked uncomfortable. “Your right to freedom was an illusion. And, if you’d exercised it, you would’ve starved.”

The way he spoke… It was as if he hated Jakku as much as he hated her. Like the planet itself was some sort of poison he’d want to pull from existence. That was probably exactly what he was thinking, Rey realized. Maybe in time he would’ve done that, too. Used the Starkiller to destroy another, and another system until the whole galaxy itself was gone. 

Rey could see that this man was from a position of power. He was self-sure and unafraid, even now. She just wasn’t sure how he’d gotten to that position. It was hard to imagine anyone respecting such a hateful little man. He wasn’t wrong about Jakku, though. Rey had lived most of her life working for quarter-portions and half-portions. Rarely earning a full portion for the day. She hadn’t realized it was such a hard life until after she’d left it behind. 

“Things were only bad there because we didn’t have the Republic,” said Rey. If they’d had people like Poe and General Leia around, good people, who respected laws and lives… Things would’ve been different. 

His lip curled into a sneer, and she expected his next words to be venom. “You’re right."

It wasn’t the response she’d been prepared for. 

“All across the galaxy,” he said. “Planets lug on, economies collapsing under the weight of the New Republic’s promises. Entire systems forgotten in the wake of a war long over. For decades, dragging on with no relief. They needed the New Republic, and they were spurned by a host of decadent politicians unwilling to act. The fact that the government wasn’t there was its weakness. A government unable to take control is a government unfit to rule.”

She stared at him as he spat out a veritable speech like the words were just spilling from his head. His eyes, watery and mean, shone with assured passion. Then Rey understood. 

Rey understood how the man was able to lead people. Rey understood how the First Order was able to swell with so much power. They didn’t recruit people by talking about power and destruction. It started smaller. By taking people like Rey and telling them that life could be better. 

The man looked at her once more. Whether he could sense her unease or whether he was just done with the conversation, it was unclear. He changed subjects. “Your mother may have been a worker on an allied planet. My father had a fondness for women below his station.”

Again, the thought that the man who’d fathered her may have forced himself on her mother… It angered Rey. Even if he'd just charmed the woman, he hadn’t cared enough for her to take her with him back to the First Order. He was probably gone before he knew the woman was even with child. “That’s awful.”

“Awful,” he repeated. “That’s all you will ever need to understand about Brendol Hux. The man is dead. And, wouldn’t have cared about you, anyhow.”

“My name is Rey,” she said. She wasn’t sure what else there was to say. 

He looked like he might sneer again. “Are you to be the executioner?”

“No.”

“A visitor, then.” He looked at her and nodded politely, the first pleasant gesture he’d made. “Hux.”

Rey knew his name already, but she was surprised to be given just the last name. She was used to calling everyone by their first names. It was weirder still that he wanted her to call him by his last name, which, for all intents and purposes… Was her last name, too. 

“Will you execute Ren?”

She stared at him, at first not sure what he meant. Then she thought he might be talking about Ben. She was going to correct him when she remembered the name he knew Ben by: Kylo Ren. As if it, too, was a last name, even though it was all made up. 

“No,” she said again, and she couldn’t decide if Armitage looked disappointed or relieved. All she could decide was that he was weird. Very weird and very formal. She wasn’t sure she liked him, but she wasn’t quite sure that he hated her. 

It was a start.  
 


	7. Zeroes

Sirens. Every alert possible going off in his ears. Panic as the escape pods burst from the ship only to be blown to dust. 

No one gets out. No one lives. 

No order without the First Order. 

Zeroes woke up in darkness. He’d never seen anything like it before. Back home, the darkest it ever got was during a power outage. And, for those, there were always emergency lights flickering to give just enough visibility. 

He was sure he was dead until he remembered. The Resistance.

The darkness that encased him was small. Zeroes could barely move his arms. He felt around for a door, a lever, a light. Anything. 

His helmet must have been blown off at some point because he’d never felt so blind. 

“Can anyone hear me?” Zeroes shouted, but his voice failed halfway through. His throat was dry and aching. How had he let his body get dehydrated? He scolded himself, trying to imagine what an officer would say. Too late, now. Push through. 

Turning to the side just right allowed him to move one arm. He balled up a fist, pounding on the solid darkness around him. Punching and punching, he could hear the dull thud of his own fist. “Help,” he called. If just one trooper could pass by and hear him, he could get free. 

No one came. 

Zeroes rested for a minute, thinking. Your vision’s been impaired. How can you cope? It was a test. Use my helmet, Zeroes thought. That wasn’t an option. He’d never been the best at tests. He could use a flamethrower or a blaster if he had either one. They might help him see. Or, they might get him killed, if he was stuck in a tiny space like this one.

He raised his fist and hit it against his surroundings once again. Punch. Punch. Punch. He counted in his head, settling on a steady pace. Punch. _Harder._ Punch. _Harder._ All he had to do was find the right amount of force. Each hit echoed in the small space, just a little bit louder each time. 

A stormtrooper wasn’t any good to the First Order trapped. Or dead. He wouldn’t be that kind of burden. His people needed him. 

Punch. 

The pain wasn’t as bad as the resounding crunch made it seem. It surrounded him, filling his ears with something that sounded like the crunch of sticks beneath his boots. His bones, cracking to pieces against a wall he couldn’t even see. Zeroes shouted and waited for someone to hear his cry of pain. As he brought his hand to his chest, he was overcome with the strangest sensation. That he was alone. Truly alone for the first time in his entire life. 

Since before he could even remember, he’d been surrounded by the people of the First Order. Other kids in the training program, learning alongside him. He’d grown up around officers and teachers, and they were all he thought of as his family. As he’d prepared for combat, he’d been assigned to a squadron. And, for the most part, they’d never left each other’s sides. 

Even with Slip dead, and Nines dead, and 87… dead, all that had changed was that Zeroes had become a part of a new squadron. 

Now, he was alone. No one watching his every move, no one judging him, analyzing, telling him to get better. If he couldn’t escape he would die. Die not even as a stormtrooper. He would die no one. 

Zeroes braced himself and leaned, letting the weight of his body hit the wall. Everything shook. He tried again. Zeroes leaned away then pushed against the wall. In his mind, his soft tissue grew heavy, muscles and organs weighing him down like Mandalorian iron. Again and again, he launched his body at the darkness, each time to be met with a satisfying quake until suddenly the world around Zeroes shifted, and he was falling. 

His insides scrambled as they tried to make sense of the sudden twist of fate. 

He held his broken hand against himself and thought, _Whatever happens I will fight. I am a good soldier. I will make the First Order proud._

The fall ended too quickly, and it was all Zeroes could do not to throw up. His head hit the wall, hard, and it stung almost as much as his hand. He breathed deeply and tried to steady himself. With no way to recognize vision loss or dizziness in this space, he would have to assume his head was alright. 

A squeak sounded somewhere in front of Zeroes. He moved his foot, feeling around for any sort of latch. His foot caught on something – a lever, maybe? Zeroes kicked at the lever, and the squeaking came again. 

Then a hiss -- water. 

Water sprayed through the wall, hitting Zeroes’ leg. Before he even had the chance to panic, the water began to spurt out, forcing itself inside as much as it could. The pressure tore at whatever small hole Zeroes had made. 

Before that moment, Zeroes hadn’t ever considered that he might die drowning. 

_Stay calm._ He repeated the mantra in his head. _Stay calm. Stay calm._ It was one of the simpler rules of the battlefield all stormtroopers were told to remember. 

Zeroes focused on breathing. He used his foot, reaching for the lever and trying to press against it. The lever was stuck. 

He knew enough about water to know that it created pressure. Right now, he was stuck in a tiny pod filled with air. Once his pod was filled with water, the pressure would, at least in theory, be equal both outside and in. Then that lever would flip. 

What Zeroes didn’t know was if the lever even opened the pod up to the outside. If it didn't, he'd be dead. If it did, he’d have to find a way to maneuver himself out while he tried not to drown. If he drowned, he'd be dead. If he couldn't maneuver himself out, he'd be dead. 

It wasn’t a perfect plan. It was all he had. 

Time dragged while Zeroes waited for the water to rush in. Every impulse he’d been born with screamed at him to panic, but he’d been programmed to be better than that. So, methodically, he pressed his foot against the lever to test it every few moments. Just to check. 

In his mind, Zeroes heard his general speaking. It was the most soothing voice Zeroes could think of. He couldn’t focus enough to make the voice say anything – just a jumble of speeches and announcements; the context didn’t matter right then. _Stay calm_ , Zeroes thought, but he imagined General Hux saying it. Not just a battle mantra. An order. 

Water rushed up his body, and Zeroes turned his head back as far as he could. At the last moment he could guess at, he took a deep breath, then everything was cold.

He kicked at the lever again, careful not to overextend. After a couple more tries, he felt it move and open. He felt the wall move, and fall away, and everything around him was dark and unsteady. His broken hand burned and ached as he forced that arm to move, anyway, swimming desperately up, up – and hoping that it was, in fact, up. 

The bubbles of his last breath blew out from his mouth when he felt something against his leg, and Zero kicked wildly before realizing his mistake. With no air in his lungs, he pushed himself forward. 

He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what day it was. He didn’t know what monsters might lurk in this sea or lake or pool. He didn’t know what monsters might lurk on the supposed safety of land. All that fell away because none of it mattered. 

Nothing at all would matter if he didn’t survive this. 

Zeroes grunted, using legs and arms to launch himself through the water. Water seeped in through his nostrils, down his throat. His chest ached for air, lungs pleading for him to open his mouth and breathe. 

Breaking the surface of the water felt like coming to life all over again. 

The relief as the world became less foggy, and Zeroes heard himself splashing… Indescribable. Like Hosnian Prime and its bloated politicians were dying all over again. Zeroes coughed, sputtering up some of the water he’d choked down, and he gulped in breath after breath of fresh air. 

Above the surface, he could see. It was nighttime, but the light of several moons lit up the water, shining down upon a nearby landmass. Zeroes swam to the land and pulled himself ashore and collapsed there on his back.

Sand clung to his clothes, but the ground was warm. Zeroes closed his eyes and dreamt that he was at a rally on Starkiller Base, standing behind the general, across from Phasma in his own special suit of stormtrooper armor. Not red like Cardinal’s or chrome like Phasma’s, but black like the very heart of space. 

When morning came, the tide pulled him from his sleep. The cold water brushed against his ankle, and Zeroes sat up. His head hurt. His hand hurt. He was alive. 

In the daylight the sand he was on appeared grey. There was a crashed ship farther down along the beach that he hadn't noticed in the night. It was black. First Order.

Zeroes ran to the ship only to find out that it was empty. A naked skeleton that Zeroes could only hope wasn’t an officer was splayed across the floor of the entryway. The inside of the ship had been picked clean by raiders or animals. No people were left. No armor. No weapons. No food. 

The ship was beyond anything salvageable, and Zeroes wouldn’t have had the know-how to salvage it, anyway. More than anything, he’d hoped to find another survivor. Failing that, his blaster. 

_I can track the raiders_ , he thought. He didn’t know of animals that would strip the clothes from a dead body. Which meant wherever the ship’s things had been taken, there were people. Where there were people, there was civilization. Where there was civilization, there was a way home. He could use someone’s radio to call out for the First Order, tell them he was FN-2000, have them send a ship for him. 

If the Resistance had destroyed the ship he was based on, then maybe Zeroes would even get transferred to the _Finalizer_. He longed to walk the same halls as his idols. The most important people in all the First Order… Maybe surviving this would even prove his worth. He could finally work his way up to being an officer.

Zeroes stepped to the communication console in the middle of the ship. Some of the buttons had been pried off, but he thought it might be worth checking. He touched a switch and was impressed when the console turned on. 

“FN-2000,” he said before the computer could even ask. The screen pulled up the most recent picture it had of him. Beside his picture were his stats, and beneath that was the status: DECEASED. “That’s me. I’m not dead,” he said. “I need to call someone and tell them.”

The screen shifted and lit up with the most awful thing Zeroes had ever seen. The symbol of the Resistance on some sort of loading screen that didn’t look anything like the interface of any First Order system he’d worked with. No officer would put that ugly starbird in a computer program.

As Zeroes stared in shock, the symbol vanished, and a young woman wearing it as a badge over her heart appeared on the screen instead. Her mouth moved as if she was talking to him, but the speakers on the ship were broken. He stayed silent, and, after a few minutes, she hung up the call. 

Even a stormtrooper knew what to think when faced with the writing on the wall. 

It wasn't possible. 

“FN-1104,” he shouted. When the console didn’t respond, he switched it off, then back on. “FN-1104!”

His squadmate’s face appeared on the screen. Beneath her stats: DECEASED. Zeroes switched it off again. 

On. “Captain Phasma!”

AWAITING TRIAL.

Zeroes’ heart stopped. He shut off the console, then flipped it on. “General Hux.”

The general’s face wasn’t on file, just as Phasma’s hadn’t been. They were also both void of the statistical information that made up the bulk of stormtrooper files. Everything on the general's file was the same as what he had seen in Phasma’s, in fact: AWAITING TRIAL. 

He breathed in air as though he had been drowning all over again.

A pipe along the ship’s floorboard came off without much pulling. It wasn’t the weapon he’d practiced with while sparring, but it would do. Zeroes carried it over to the console, using his broken hand just to steady his hold, and Zeroes beat the machine until it crumpled to the point that he could no longer turn it back on. Then he shouldered the pipe, left the ship, and started inland. 

The Resistance had done the unthinkable. 

But, the First Order wasn’t dead. Not yet. 

Not ever.


End file.
